Staff Reviews
by yararebird
Summary: A follow up to Punchline, if you will. A Frank/Jude interlude with a wider cast. Shenanigans and smut, mostly.


Sister Jude knocked softly at the heavy oak door. She was expected, but ever respectful. "Come in! Come in." It was her boss' habit to repeat this invitation twice, a familiarity that made her smile.

"You asked for me, Monsignor."

"Sister Jude! Most prompt, as usual." Timothy Howard gestured to the seat across from his desk. "Please, sit." He waited for her to settle in the leather wingback, angled features expectant and patient. He cleared his throat nervously. "Sister." Thought a moment. "Jude."

Her brow quirked. He'd used her name. He wanted something. "Yes, Father?"

"I wanted to begin today by telling you how greatly I appreciate your hard work these last weeks. With the delivery of new equipment, contractors in the building, the bakery expansion…" He raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "And all of this with the daily madness of Briarcliff. Quite honestly, Jude - you are a marvel. And a most valuable asset to the church, and myself."

She hoped she wasn't blushing too profusely, but the heat in her cheeks belied the wish. "Thank you, Father." She looked at her lap - her hands. "I assure you I've enjoyed the challenge."

"You thrive on work, Sister." He nodded. "But you mustn't allow yourself to become overwhelmed."

"Of course not." She smiled. "Mary Eunice and the other sisters have been a great help to me." Truthfully? She was beyond overwhelmed. There were moments when she stopped in a hallway, surrounded by lunatics, and wondered if she wasn't becoming a lunatic herself. More often lately, she entered a room and completely forgot why she entered that room. She found herself randomly crying in the bathtub. Had on more than one occasion laid her forehead against her desk and prayed to as many saints as she could recall in that moment, blood pounding in her ears. But she'd be damned if this man ever knew any of that.

"Well, I'm pleased you're finding assistance." Timothy tapped a large stack of files on his desk. "Because _these_ are staff review forms that are due this Friday. And quite a few of them shall land in your lap, I'm afraid."

She blinked a few times. "Staff review forms?"

"A new objective handed down by the Diocese. A way of inspiring and modeling reformation in the institution system."

"I see." She had no fucking clue.

"I think it's a wonderful idea." He opened a folder. "And I'm pleased to say that _yours_ , Sister Jude, shall be the first one completed." His boyish smile was beguiling. "By me."

"How exciting." She deadpanned.

Timothy chuckled. "Sister. I assure you no one could be more...inconvenienced by this than you and myself. However, we must...play ball, so to speak. With the higher up's. Yes?"

"Of course." She smirked. "So...how exactly is this 'staff review' delivered, Father?"

He cleared his throat officially, produced a pair of tortoiseshell glasses. "Let's find out, shall we?" He peered at the form. She leaned forward expectantly. "Ah. Fairly simple. Here we go. Sister... Jude...Martin." He was writing as he spoke. "How long have you been with us now at Briarcliff?"

"Two years, nine months and...twelve days."

He glanced up at her. "Quite exact." She nodded. "We'll just round up. 3 years." He jotted. "As director of this facility, please state three strengths you exhibit in your role."

"Strengths?"

"Yes, yes." He nodded. "Things you're quite good at. First, you state them, and then later I state three that I feel you possess. As your superior."

"Ah." She cleared her throat. "That seems rather a lot like vanity, Father."

He dismissed the criticism with a wave. "Purely professional."

"Fine." Jude considered a moment, absently caressing the crucifix on her rosary. "I suppose I'm...organized."

He jotted. "Quite. Quite. And?"

"Punctual?" She felt like she was reaching. This was rather difficult.

He jotted. Paused. "I won't disagree, Sister. But...perhaps something more...significant?"

"Thorough?"

"In what sense?"

She chewed at her bottom lip. "I like to see projects completed efficiently and correctly."

"Excellent!" He snapped his fingers. "That's quite good, Jude. Very good." He wrote for some time. "Um...one more."

Jude blew air through her lips impatiently. Glanced about the room as if for ideas. It came to her quite suddenly. "Oh! Creative! Just yesterday I fixed a faucet in the kitchens with a hair pin and some chewing gum."

"Ah!" He went from impressed to concerned in two seconds. "Is that...is that a safe repair?"

She shrugged. "It'll do until the plumber comes tomorrow."

"Of course." He jotted. "Creative is quite good, too. And I think in more ways than simply... impromptu pipe fitting." She smiled. "Now." He reviewed his work so far. "If you could make one significant change in our institution what would it be?"

"Just one?"

His concerned expression deepened. "Would you make more than one?"

She glanced over his name plate. "How much room do you have there?"

"Oh, my."

"One. More security. If we're going to keep accepting charitable cases and those remanded by the state, I need more orderlies and guards to wrangle them." He jotted. "Two. Expand the kitchen. We barely have enough room to prep food for the ones we have, including staff. They all eat like horses! And we're getting more every day. Three. An ordering cycle for linens. Laundering them isn't enough. They need to be replaced more often. They're disgusting. I can't change the sheets on my own bed without wondering what stain this is or that is. Four -"

"Sister." He interrupted kindly. "I think perhaps this is something we should meet about on our own time. Obviously, you've quite a list of demands that could improve our situation significantly. And I am more than willing to file those requests promptly."

"Thank you, Father."

He flipped a page. "Have you at any point in time felt endangered or threatened in your role?"

She scoffed. "I've had feces flung at me a few times, among other bodily fluids. Spivey occasionally likes to…" She considered her wording. "...make inappropriate comments, gestures or physical contact with me and a few of the other -"

He held up a hand. "Physical contact, Sister?"

"He's a grabber." She shrugged.

A deep sigh. Timothy rubbed at his forehead. "Is there no disciplinary action that can be taken with the patient?"

"He seems to enjoy it."

A full flush spread across his cheeks. "I see. I suppose I understand what you mean by more security personnel."

"Thank you."

A page flip. "Your development." He tapped the desk a few times. "How do you intend to develop...your development...in your position here and beyond?"

She chuckled. "Can we table that question until I'm able to say the lunatics aren't running the asylum?"

"Understood." Jotting. "I'll just say that you are currently mid-phase on developing your development track."

"That sounds very politic."

He clicked his pen a few times, reviewing again. "Now, there is a section of the form for you to fill in privately. Regarding your...well, regarding me."

"You?"

"Yes." He tapped the sheet. "Any issues you may have um...with my leadership or…" He scratched his head. "Well, I suppose any issues you may have with me at all."

"Other than this staff review? I haven't any." She made a gesture of moving on.

"Sister, it's important that if you have any feedback -"

"I find you consistently supportive, respectful, and appreciative. Would you like to write that or shall I?"

He swallowed. "Thank you, Sister."

Silence. "Is there anything else, Father?"

He flipped to the last page. "No, Sister. Everything else is for me to complete."

"Very well, then." Jude made to rise. "Just out of curiosity, who gave you your staff review?"

"Ah. Mine will be delivered by Cardinal O'Hare. Based on our...collective performance."

"I see. I hope it goes well."

"I'm certain it will. Or it will not." He grabbed a stack of files, sorted through them quickly. "These are for you, then. Mainly senior staff. Frank. Carl. Mary Eunice. The new cook. Dr. Arden. A few others."

"Dr. Arden?" Her lips tightened. She didn't care for Dr. Arden. Wasn't exactly certain why yet. "Perhaps you would be the better choice for delivering Dr. Arden's review, Father? You were, after all, the person who chose him."

Timothy held the file, thinking. If he was suspicious of her personal motives, he didn't show it. "Perhaps you're right." He set it aside. "I will leave you with these, then."

She took them graciously. "I will make every effort to have them completed by Friday, Father." Even though it was already Tuesday…and she had a list of about thirty other things to be done by Friday. She started toward the door.

"Oh! Sister Jude." She turned. "Do you feel that this review has enriched your employment at all?"

She pursed her lips. Maybe witheld a smile. "No?" At his crestfallen expression she loosed the smile. "But I had a lovely time conversing with you, Father. Good day."

In the hallway, she almost ran into: "Frank!"

The security guard turned, looking very serious. "Yes, Sister?"

She snapped brusquely, ushered him toward her office. He followed, checking behind them suspiciously. "What shift are you today?" She whispered, unlocking her door.

"Second. All week." He followed her in, noting that she locked the door behind them. "Why?"

Jude tossed the files onto her desk and pressed fingers to both temples, rubbing. "The Monsignor just so kindly handed me my ass for the rest of the week and it so happens you're on my list now."

"Yer list?"

"Staff reviews."

"Reviews of what?"

"I review the staff, Frank." She gestured to the chair before her desk. "Sit." He sat. "Who else is on duty at the moment?"

"Uh. Fitzgerald. Keys. That new guy. They call him Twatty, but I think his name is actually -"

"You know what? I don't care." Jude interrupted. "I'm just gonna ask you some bullshit questions and you give me some bullshit answers, okay?"

Frank shrugged gamely. "Sure, Sister. Shoot."

She clicked her pen, opening his file first. "Okay. What are three strengths you have as head of security?"

"Strengths?"

"Yeah. You know. Things yar good at. Like…" An amorphous gesture. "Super powers."

"Oh, wow. This _is_ bullshit." He leaned forward, thinking. "I'm uh...observant."

"Great. Perfect." She jotted. "What else?"

"I'm a man of action."

She paused, a smile slipping. "You certainly are, Frank."

"X-ray vision!" He slapped his knee.

"Be serious, now." She dropped the pen, trying not to laugh.

He shrugged. "You said super powers."

Jude rubbed at her forehead. It was wonderful to laugh, but the action brought about some unwelcome emotional release. "God, Frank…"

"Hey." He stood up cautiously, came around her desk. He was well aware he was on duty, and so was she. This wasn't late night Cheerwine shenanigans or...well...any of those other more sordid things they got up to lately. He knew they needed to be careful. "You okay?" He rubbed her shoulders gently. When she turned suddenly toward him and stood in his arms he knew something was wrong. "Judy." He murmured, lips against wimple. "What's tha mattah, baby doll?"

She gave a small whine of frustration before pulling away from him reluctantly. Hands against his chest, she collected herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm just...getting a little overwhelmed lately."

He let her go. Knew it was important to give her space and maintain their professionalism. But he was worried. "I know you've been working like crazy. I haven't even seen ya...ya know...in almost two weeks."

She sat back down and looked up at him, surprised. "Has it really been almost two weeks?"

Frank perched on the edge of her desk, chuckled. "Trust me. I know. It's been eleven days now."

Jude put her face in her hands. "God, no wonder I'm such a mess!" She patted his knee. "Frank?"

"Judy?"

"How about you come by after yar shift tonight? And I'll...review yar performance?"

Frank's jaw tightened and eyes brightened. "I'll uh - try to give you a performance worth reviewing."

She licked her lips. "I'm counting on it." She saw him to the door with a somewhat more positive outlook on the day ahead. "And Frank? Send me…" She glanced at the name on top of her pile of reviews. "Send me Carl."

Carl was his usual rumpled mess when he entered the office. "Sistah Jude? Frank said you wanted ta see me?"

"Sit, Carl." He smelled pleasantly of tobacco. She was suddenly aching for a cigarette. She rubbed her hands together as Carl nervously settled. "You, uh - you got a smoke on ya?"

Carl's lips pursed. "Sistah. I know well enough we ain't allowed ta smoke on duty. I don't keep 'em on -"

"Cut the crap, Carl." She reached out - an impatient gimme gesture. "If I'm askin' I'm not tellin'. Kay?"

A hesitant smile cracked the orderly's face and he extracted a pack of Lucky Strikes from his pocket. Jude produced an ashtray from a bottom desk drawer and they lit up from Carl's Zippo. Jude took a moment to savor the first inhale. Carl shifted in his seat, watching her warily. "Am I in trouble, Sistah?"

"No." She shrugged. "At least not yet." A suffering sigh. "We've got this new thing I have ta do." She clicked the pen. "Staff reviews."

"Oh, good!" She gave him a surprised look. "I gotta lot ta say about this staff, I tell ya. For one thing, Andy Knox is an A-1 fuckhole. The othah day he -"

"Shh!" She shushed him succinctly. "I'm reviewing the staff, Carl. Like you. This is me… reviewing you. Ya feel me?"

"Oh." He was crestfallen. "I see."

"Tell me yar three greatest strengths as an orderly, Carl."

Carl stared at the ceiling for a moment. Smoked. "I'm a scrapper. My daddy always said so. I can take down a nut in under three seconds."

Jude nodded, considering. "Alright. Physical fitness." She wrote. "That um...that _is_ important in your line of work. What else?"

"Uh...I take direction well."

Jude raised her brows. That sounded surprisingly professional. And she couldn't really argue the fact. Carl had never given her any flack. "I agree." She wrote. "One more."

"I got a great singing voice."

She froze, not quite sure she'd heard him correctly. "Come again, Carl?"

"Nice pipes." He exhaled a plume of smoke. "Coulda really been somethin' if I'd wanted."

"I'm not certain having singing talent is really advantageous to yar career as an orderly."

Carl shrugged. "Brightens the day a little, at least."

Jude dropped the pen. "Alright." She sat back in her chair. Why the hell not? "Let's hear somethin'."

"Any requests?" He grinned.

She took a long drag. "Surprise me."

Carl cleared his throat. "When the night has come - and the land is dark - and the moon is the only - light we'll see - no I won't be afraid - no I won't be afraid - just as long - as you stand - stand by me…" He punctated each verse with a snap, voice clear and strong. Jude was honestly impressed, eyes wide and mouth agape. Carl stood, seeing her appreciation, and added a bit of soft-footing. "So darlin' darlin' - stand - by me! Oh, stand by me - oh stand - stand by me!" He spun smoothly and Jude couldn't help a smile. "If the sky - that we look upon - should crumble and fall - or the mountains -"

She was swaying gently in her chair when a knock at the door interrupted them. Jude shot to attention, stamping her cigarette quickly and gesturing Carl back to his seat. They waved at the lingering smoke, both blowing at it as Jude called out: "Yes?" She stowed the ashtray just in time.

Her door opened and Mary Eunice's sweet face appeared. "Sister?"

"Come in, Eunice."

"I'm sorry to interrupt," the young nun apologized, seeing Carl. "But we have a problem."

"What happened?" Jude genuinely dreaded knowing.

"Um...Nancy Bradley? The new patient? She's naked and loose in the ceiling somewhere over hydrotherapy and B-Wing."

"Loose in the ceiling?" Jude couldn't quite fathom this turn of events.

Mary Eunice explained. "She stole a round of butter from the bakery, apparently. Greased herself up and climbed up into the pipes somehow. Frank and security climbed up after her, but they couldn't um...get a grip on her."

"Wow." It was all Jude could think, all she could say.

Carl stood. "Sistah. If um...if we could finish this latah, I have some experienced extracting greased up goofballs."

"That's excellent news, Carl." She waved him toward the door. "I'll send far you latah."

"I'm gonna need a pound of flour or two and a couple yards of cheesecloth."

Jude rested her jaw on her hand. "Get whatevah ya need from the bakery, Carl. And um...good luck."

He gave a small salute. Eunice patted his arm affectionately. "I heard you singing, Carl. That was a good one."

"Thanks, little sistah!"

Eunice started to follow him out the door. "I really like the one about the lion in the jungle, though. With the wee-mo-ways?"

"Sister Mary Eunice!" Jude called. "You stay, please. And have a seat." She rifled through the folders on her desk and extracted Mary's file. When she looked up, Eunice's eyes were brimming with tears and she was wringing her hands nervously. Jude blinked. "Eunice...what's wrong with you?"

"Frank told me about the staff reviews." Her already small voice quavered. "Am I going to be let go, Sister Jude?" She grabbed the edge of Jude's desk, head bowed. "If I go back to the convent, they'll send me to a mission, I just know it! Somewhere terrifying! With lions or head-hunting cannibal natives! And poisonous snakes! Oh, God, Sister I'm so scared of snakes! And I don't want to sleep in a mud hut on banana leaves! And I can't eat something that's still cute if there's a stick shoved through it! It will be looking at me, like it's begging me to save it!" She finally looked up, eyes desperate. "And what if there's a raid in the night? What if I'm…" Her voice dropped to a hiss here. "What if I'm _ravaged_ by the young men of the tribe, ripe to prove their manhood to the elders, their beautiful black skin shining in the moonlight, muscles rippling as they take turns, their thick, throbbing, pulsating man-parts pounding my -"

" _Eunice_!" Jude slapped her desk, grinding her protege to a halt. Both women took a moment to breathe rather deeply. " Christ, Mary Eunice…" Jude rubbed at her forehead. "No one is being let go." She explained calmly. "This is simply a tool for the Diocese to gauge how far we've come in our process of revolutionizing Briarcliff, and how far we have left to go. Okay?"

Eunice sniffled. "Okay."

"Alright then." Jude handed her a tissue. Tried to control a smile and may have failed slightly. "I promise you I will protect you from the rapey natives, little sister. At all costs."

"Thank you, Sister."

"So." Jude began the pen clicking. "Tell me three of your greatest strengths in your position here."

Eunice shook her head. "I don't think I have any."

Jude rolled her eyes. "Of course, ya have strengths, Mary Eunice. Everyone does. Just think of something you do that yar really good at."

Eunice struggled. "Well. I guess...I like to take care of the patients. I feel bad for them sometimes. Even if they're you know...cursing at me or beating each other stupid with a Candy Land game board or -"

"Greasing themselves up with sweet cream buttah and streaking through the ceiling?" Jude asked.

"Even then." Eunice sighed. "But is that a strength? Or does that make me weak?"

Jude shook her head. "I think empathy is a great strength, Sister. It's a Godly gift. To sympathize and minister to the afflicted."

Mary smiled a little. "Then I guess I have that one." She seemed pleased as Jude wrote. "And I get along well with the rest of the staff, too. Is that a strength?"

Jude pointed, excited. "Yes! Absolutely." She jotted. "Communication. That's a really good one, Eunice. Keep it coming."

"Um...I strive to support you and the Monsignor in your efforts to make Briarcliff a blessed and holy institution."

Here, Jude stopped writing. She looked up, thinking. "I think you nailed yar greatest strength there, Eunice. You are definitely a dedicated supporter."

"Thank you, Sister."

"What do you see yourself developing toward here?"

Eunice blinked. "Well. I've told you before that I want to be as successful as you in running Briarcliff someday. I mean, after you've gone on to bigger things, of course."

"Bigger things?" Jude chuckled. "I don't know if I want anything bigger than this, Eunice." She shook her head. "It can be...very challenging."

"I know!" Mary leaned forward. "That's why I ask so many questions, Sister. Why I'm always at your heels. I really am trying to learn."

"You are, Eunice. You're doing very well. You've gotten much stronger since you first came here. And you just get better every day."

"I know I still have a way to go." Eunice gave a self-deprecating shrug. "I know they still kind of walk all over me. And sometimes I'm forgetful. Especially about knocking on doors. And I know I cry too easily. And discipline isn't exactly my strong suit. And -"

"Eunice." Jude interrupted softly. "Don't be so hard on yarself. That's my job."

A smile. "Alright, sister."

Eunice left somewhat more positive than she'd arrived, making Jude feel somewhat more accomplished than when Eunice had arrived. She rubbed at her eyes. Her office was quiet for the moment. It almost seemed there was time to think. Perhaps even to pray. Instead, she cracked Frank's staff review and began writing. She completed it. Then Carl's. Then Eunice's.

Her eyes ached. Her head ached. Her stomach ached. She wondered if it was dinner time. But a glance at the clock told her it was not. How had it become so late? Dinner time was quite past. It was nearly 8 pm. When she stood, her back ached. She leaned on her desk until a thud on her door straightened her. For the first time in hours, she smiled. It actually hurt.

"Frank." He stood outside her door with a tray and her heart melted at the sight. "Bless you."

She locked up behind him.

"Ya didn't come down for dinner and I knew it was bad." He set the tray on her desk. "Judy. Ya gotta take care of yerself."

"But I have you far that." She spoke with her mouth full, already scarfing a buttered roll.

He pulled out her chair for her, ever a gentleman. "And what happens when I'm not here?"

She shrugged, uncovering a plate of beef stew. "I like to think of it as watching my girlish figure."

"Well." He kissed her cheek. "I don't want anything falling off that figure." A gentle squeeze to her left breast as he drew away and a grunt of appreciation.

"Nevah let it be said you don't know how ta treat a lady, Frank." She cast her wimple onto the desk, unleashed rampant curls, and tackled the stew.

Frank sat heavily in the chair across from her desk. Tossed his cap onto her wimple and rubbed tiredly at his steely grey head. "Hell of a damn day."

"No shit." She gestured, still eating. "Did ya manage to extract our lubed up looney from the ceiling over B-Ward?"

He chuckled. "Goddamn. Ya know, I hate to admit it. But sometimes Carl's a fuckin' genius." Frank leaned forward, excited to amuse her. He slips into hydro with a sack of flour and about six yards of dirty burlap. Says, 'I got this, fellas.' Well, we take his word for it and back off like. Cuz this is a man on a mission. Here he goes, climbing up the ladder into ceiling. And Judy, I swear to ya, even with a five pound sack of flour in one arm, he's swingin' around in those pipes like Tarzan of the Jungle!" Her grin, her laughter fueled him. "We lose sight of him when he goes through the service chute up there, and we follow the sounds of his crazy journey down the hall into B-Wing. About over the old sunroom - ya know, what we converted into a file room? - we hear one rousing ruckus, I tell ya what. Carl's yellin', 'Come here, ya crazy cooter!' There's all this slippin' and banging' around. I holler up there, 'Carl? You good, buddy?' He hollers back, 'Frank, get the tranks and meet me in hydro!' So here we all head back to the wet room just in time to see Carl drag this looney - covered in flour like a batter-dipped chicken cutlet and wrapped in a burlap straightjacket - through the service chute!" He slapped his knee. Jude was bent over her stew, painfully laughing behind her hand. "So one of the orderlies meets 'em on the ladder with a shot, sticks the cuckoo with a needle, and bam: problem solved. We hose her off, get her in a real straightjacket and haul her down to solitary ta sleep it off." He shook his head. "Never a dull moment, right?"

Jude was polishing her stew bowl with a roll. "I'll have to update Carl's staff review and list him as indispensable to this institution. What's the technical term for a buttered, floured lunatic?"

"Ya got me, there."

"I'll just call her a 'battered woman.'"

"Ouch! Jokes, Judy!" Frank's smile softened. "How are those reviews comin'? I know that's what ya worked on all day."

"Nearly done." She pushed her plate aside. "I just don't need another damn thing to focus on all week, Frank. Ya know?"

"How 'bout ya focus on this fer a minute." He extracted a cold Cheerwine from his pocket and another small parcel. "More delicious contraband."

"Oh, Frank…" Her eyes teared. The soda was delicious, as usual, the outlaw nature of it making it even more refreshing. And in the little brown box nestled two chocolate truffles. "Ya brought me chocolates?" She asked, a gleam in her eye.

"Eh." He shrugged, blushing anyway. "There's this new French bakery not too far from my house. I stopped in there this morning."

The truffle was melty and sinful. Jude's eyes drifted closed as her mouth worked it. Frank licked his lips watching her pleasure. "They're amazing," she finally breathed.

"I'm glad ya like 'em." He whispered, watching her unbutton her habit. "Thought ya might like something sweet." He crossed his legs, an erection brimming to the surface.

"I _do_ like something sweet." She stood, draping the shapeless habit over her chair. Low lamplight shimmered on simple white satin camisole. "Know what else I like?" She slipped her shoes off.

He swallowed. "What?"

She took his hands, straddled him in the creaky chair. "I like you," she murmured into his ear, nuzzling the shell of it. "Fuckin' the hell outta me."

"Shit, Judy." Their kiss was searing - the first in days - and his fingers were madly memorizing textures: elastic garter, silk stocking, satin short and hot, soft forbidden flesh. The French knickers were loose when freed from the taut suspenders, and he dipped his fingers beneath the lace, found sticky wetness spreading inside her thighs. She threw her head back when he stroked her cunt, gasping his name. "I've missed how wet ya get fer me, baby." Kept his voice low.

Her fingers were feverish on his belt, at his fly. "I just need you inside me, Frank. _Now._ " Her insistence was almost as sexy as the way her breath caught and her body seized when he slipped two fingers inside her. "Ah!" He caught her lips with his again, as much to quiet her eagerness as to enjoy a kiss.

His cock was thick in her hand, swollen and febrile. Her lingerie could stay, loose enough to allow a speedy penetration, but the chair made things awkward and she whined until he lifted her onto her desk. "I'll take ya ta bed, Judy," Frank promised. "But I'd just as soon take ya right here if now means now."

"Now means now!" She tugged at his hips and so swift he buried himself in her want. "Oh, yes!" She muffled the shout in his uniformed shoulder, gripped the stiff cotton like a vice. "I missed this, Frank." She talked out of her mind. It kept her from screaming. "I missed you. Ya feel so fucking good. Move, Frank! Please! Fuck me fast. Make me come. Touch me."

"Shhhhh." He tried to shush her. She could never really know what her dirty talk did to him - to his tenuous hold on control. Not to mention the new sensation of scratchy lace and cool satin caressing his cock on every stroke. "Slow down, beautiful," he soothed, voice cracking against her neck. "I missed you, too. Lemme be sweet to ya." He gripped a hip, thumb snaking into the crux of material between them to stroke that tiny tumescent toggle that made her spread like hot butter.

Jude hissed at the new added pleasure, the building, remarkable pressure. "Ya already gave me sweets, Frank." She bit at his earlobe. "They're gone already. Treat me like a slut."

"Fucking Christ, Judy." She always did this to him. Unraveled him. "Lay yer ass down." He shoved none too gently at her chest until her back hit desk, blotter and staff reviews. "Touch yer damn self." He shifted his grip on her thighs, folded them over his forearms and tugged - hard - to hear her gasp. "Show me what feels good while I fuck yer goddamn brains out."

"Aw, Hell, Frank." She arched under his assault, boosting up to push her shorts down just enough. She obeyed his order, pinching and rolling her clit as he fucked her hard. He'd learned her well given their (unfortunately) few trysts; knew how to time her, how to read her every gasp, every whimper, how to angle himself to produce the best results. Frank was a fine lover, and as she shuddered - slightly sweaty shoulders crinkling staff reviews - she was reminded how grateful she was to have his...understanding.

He was also conscientious. He sleeked her shorts down her legs swiftly after withdrawing, quick to use them to catch their spendings. No mess on her desk tonight. "Bettah, Judy?" He pulled her up and into an embrace.

"Mm-hm." She closed her eyes against his shoulder. "Much bettah."

He chuckled deeply. "Well, I hope I gave ya some good material fer my review."

A genuine laugh. "How about 'consistently delivers multiple positive results in a challenging setting.'"

"Sounds right." He kissed her forehead. "I have a very demanding boss."

"A very happy one, now." She sobered. "I intended to use our time to complete your review, but…I'm ahead of the game. However, that does give us about an hour or two if you wanna stay far a while. Maybe climb under my covers with me?"

Frank swallowed. "Course I wanna stay, Judy." His expression darkened just a bit. She stroked the creases beside his eyes, questioning with her own. "Just makes it harder to leave is all."

And she knew that truth all too well. The last few times they'd been together had started to feel far more like making love than having a forbidden fling. She chewed at her lip. "Yeah. But at least…" She shrugged.

"It's something." He finished quietly. A sad smile on his handsome features.

"It's always something."

So maybe it was making love. It was something they needed - something they craved. The full contact of skin on skin, sheets tangling them together, the tastes and sighs of each other. It was a wonderful after, they talked. Low voices and breathy laughs. A rumbling under the surface never to be spoken.

It was leaving the bed, leaving each other, that was the worst. Jude dressed quietly, back to Frank as he did the same. She would make rounds tonight before bed. "Frank?"

"Yeah, Judy?"

"You're a damn good friend."

His jaw tensed for just a second. A tight smile. She didn't see it. "You are too, baby doll." He settled his cap on his head and smirked as he adjusted her wimple. "Nice ta see a little color in them cheeks now." He brushed said cheek.

Jude caught his hand. "Frank…"

A knocking at her office door startled them. Eyes wide, they quietly shuffled out of her chambers and into the adjoining room. Frank sat across from her desk and she opened the door. "Monsignor!"

"Sister Jude." Timothy Howard nodded genially in the hallway. "Forgive the late visit. I noticed your light was still on." He also noticed Frank. A slight question crept onto his trusting smile. "Mr. McCann. A late visit for you, too, it seems."

Frank stood, but Jude spoke. "Yes, Father. Frank and I have just completed his staff review. I'm afraid it had to wait until after his shift so as not to distract from his duties."

"Ah." Jude gestured Timothy inside, painfully aware she may or may not have smelled of sex. "I greatly appreciate the devotion to the task. From both of you." Near her desk, Jude could see his eyes raking over the scattered papers. She quickly pulled them into a semblance of order again, avoiding his eyes.

"I'm nearly done, actually." Jude cleared her throat. "Not as bad as I originally anticipated, Fathah."

"Excellent!" Timothy righted a fountain pen that perched precariously on the edge of her desk and spotted something on the floor. He bent, righted slowly. Frank's eyes closed in prayer as the Monsignor set the object on Jude's desk. "I see this particular war has not been won just yet?" His eyes reflected humor at the empty Cheerwine bottle.

"I found that in the common room earlier and -"

"Frank brought it up with him from the common room -"

Frank and Jude spoke at once, quickly, catching eyes. He deferred to her. "He brought it for the contraband drawer. As usual." She was grateful the dim light hid her bright flush.

"Well." Timothy set the bottle on the desk. "I suppose when one looks at the greater picture of Briarcliff, soda bottles are the least of our worries." He smiled. "And perhaps - as Sister Jude has suggested - an increased number of security staff will assist in the war on contraband."

"That'd be great, Father." Frank nodded.

"Jude." Timothy turned his attention to her. "I should like to think that you will be retiring for the evening soon? You mustn't push yourself to exhaustion, Sister. You've never disappointed me with the timeliness of your work."

"Of course, Father. I'll be retiring right after checks." She assured.

"Fine, then." He made for the door. "I shall see the both of you tomorrow."

"I'll uh - I'll walk out with ya, Father." Frank followed gamely. "I'm headed home for the night, myself."

"I will enjoy the company, Mr. McCann!" The priest nodded at Jude. "Peace be with you, Sister."

"And with you, Father."

Frank paused in the door, a beat behind Timothy. "Good night, Sistah Jude." He winked at her.

"Good night, Frank."

Her hands were shaking when she leaned on her desk and sighed heavily. If Timothy had been a few minutes earlier… She shook off the thought. Touched her pockets. Keys. Whistle. In her desk drawer, a flash light. Time for checks.

But just outside her door, she nearly collided with a nun. "Mary Eunice."

"I was coming to see you, Sister Jude."

"Well." Jude raised her arms. Did a little half turn. "You see me." She smirked at Eunice's grin.

"I was going to offer to walk checks for you if you were still working on reviews."

"You're very kind, Eunice, but I'm done."

"Good, then." Eunice nodded. "I'll just -"

"Come with me."

"Really?"

Jude pressed the flash light into Eunice's hand. "Really." She put an encouraging hand on Eunice's shoulder. "It'll be good far your...development."

"That's what I thought!" Eunice enthused.

Their heels clicked down the stairway to Heaven. And if Eunice noticed that her older Sister was more pensive than usual, she certainly didn't address the matter.

Some things were simply meant to stay between a nun and God.


End file.
